


i love you so (meet me in the winter snow)

by freshbloom



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Mileven Secret Santa, also the title is a lie there's no snow involved hffh sorry, bc mileven in winter is my DREAM, i tried to make this one Extra Fluffy, so prepare yourself for cheesy cliched christmas scenes, the whole gang is here!!! besides the teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshbloom/pseuds/freshbloom
Summary: In the glow of her fairy lights, her room feels otherworldly, as though this space, plastered with photographs and overflowing with records and clothes and books was made just for her. Just for Mike—sat on her bed, leaning back against his hands and smiling softly at her. He fits so well in her little world, her little room in her little house in Hawkins—he makes it more beautiful than anything else ever could. He makes it home.Or,Mike and El exchange gifts.





	i love you so (meet me in the winter snow)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paranoids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoids/gifts).



> ally, i know i got all sappy on tumblr, but to reiterate--i love you so much! i hope you like this, and i hope these holidays have been super fun and happy for you, and that 2019 is the best year of your life yet. thank you so much for being my friend <3 merry christmas!

“Alright, my turn."

Dustin gets up from his spot on the floor, walking towards the Christmas tree and digging through to find the box labeled with his name. It's early in the evening, and El is giddy with excitement. For the first time, it had been her turn to host the annual Secret Santa party, and she'd been more than happy—she'd spent days beforehand shopping and decorating and baking with Joyce. She'd even purchased matching tacky sweaters for the six of them to wear—chunky, overly scratchy things adorned with light up Christmas trees. Now, they're midway through the gift exchange, with each Party member opening the present and trying to guess who'd gotten it for them. Dustin had torn open his present far too excitedly, sending shreds of wrapping paper flying in every direction. 

"Oh my god!" He yells, and El grins. "It's a collector's set of Lord of The Rings books!" 

Dustin holds up the boxset, his eyes wide and his face split into the biggest smile El's ever seen. The other boys let out sounds of awe and jealousy, and El applauds herself. She knew once she'd found the gift she'd gotten the best present--she just wanted to see if Dustin knew it had been her. 

"Okay, Dustin, who do you think got you that?" She says. 

His eyes snap back to hers, before dropping down to the gift in his hands. He hums in thought, then suddenly— 

"I guess Mike."

Beside her, Mike scoffs. "Why me?"

Dustin narrows his eyes. "Is it Max?"

"What?" She questions. "No!"

"Lucas?"

"Uh—"

"Will? Or maybe it's El—"

"Dustin!" Max cuts in, scowling. "That's not how the game works, dumbass!" 

He stomps his foot childishly. "But I just wanna _know_."

"Then guess!"

"I was guessing!" He yells, glaring at her. "Until _someone_ interrupted me!" 

"Dude," Mike pitches in. "Just play the game."

"Jesus, fine." He goes quiet again, his brow furrowed in concentration. Eventually, he sighs and faces the group again. 

"I guess Mike, because...wait if it _isn't_ Mike then is it—“

"Dustin!" 

"Oh my god," El mutters. "I don't have the patience for this. It was me, Dustin!" He turns to her, his gaze softening. 

"Wow, El..." He trails off. Gently, he places the gift down on the ground, before suddenly catapulting himself at her in the most suffocating hug she's ever experienced. 

"Thank you so much!" He exclaims, and El laughs, gently patting his back.  

"You're welcome, Dustin. Now please, get off so I can breathe." He pulls back ruffling her hair slightly—a habit he no doubt picked up from Steve—before walking back over to his gift and sitting himself on the floor beside it, his eyes still glimmering with excitement. 

"Okay, who's next?" Mike says. 

"I think it's you, bub." El replies, turning towards him.  

"Oh, okay." He stands up, moving over to the Christmas tree to repeat Dustin's steps. Carefully, he peels the wrapping paper away from his gift, and lets out a breathy laugh of excitement once he sees what it is. He's holding up a vinyl record, the cover of which reads  _Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)._

"This is so fucking awesome," He mumbles. "I can't believe I got this." He's smiling down at the record, his eyes widened with childlike excitement—El feels herself begin to smile too, watching him be so happy. 

"Oh! I already know who got you that." 

"Seriously, Dustin, I'm going to smack you." Max says, her tone low and threatening.  

"Lucas!" He whines. "Your girlfriend won't stop bullying me." Only the last part ends up muffled, because Mike has thrown a pillow at his face from across the room. Suddenly, couch cushions are being pelted at him from every direction and the room fills with laughter, even from Dustin—who's letting out small giggles even as he complains and shields his face.  

El smiles, joining in on the laughter and feeling something like euphoria drift in and settle over them all. 

_Home_ , she thinks. 

* * *

Sometime later, El finds herself tucked between Mike and Dustin on the love-seat, the rest of the Party sprawled every which way across the living room. The floor is littered with scraps of wrapping paper and cookie crumbs, spare cups and plates piled high on the coffee table—it's a mess she knows will be back to haunt her come morning, but for now, El is happy to see traces of the night's excitement scattered through the house. The music has softened to quiet, old-timey Christmas songs—the tones of which have lulled the conversation down to gentle chatter. El's leaning against Mike, the side of her body pressed flush against his own, his head resting against hers, while Dustin leans against the arm rest, his legs draped across both of their laps. Will is laying on the longer sofa, a cushion cuddled up in his arms, while Lucas is sat on the floor next to the sofa, Max in between his legs and resting against his chest. 

 

It's a mess everywhere. Dustin and Max are arguing, Lucas and Will pitching in every little while to get one of them riled up again. Mike has her hands in his lap, his fingers playing with her own. 

It's perfect. This whole night has been perfect. 

Now's her chance to make it even better. 

She lifts her head from its place on Mike's shoulder, and shifts slightly to face him. Mike looks down at her, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in question. 

"Can you come with me for a second?" She says, tugging on his hand gently. 

"Yeah, of course." He replies, smiling. El nods once, shoving Dustin's legs off of their own to the sound of his protestant "Hey!" She pulls herself off the couch, taking Mike along with her, and they're just about to leave when a voice cuts through the room. 

" _God_ , I don't even wanna know where you two are going." It's Dustin, smirking up at them, his sweater dusted with crumbs and his lips coated in the faintest tint of blue icing. El rolls her eyes. 

"Jesus, Henderson," Max snaps, crawling over to smack his leg. "What are we, twelve years old?" 

"I was just kidding." He grumbles. "Have fun making out, you two." El shoots him an exasperated look before turning back around, pulling on Mike's hand so he follows. They head upstairs to her bedroom, and El shuts the door behind them. The noises downstairs quiet to a hum, the music only faintly bleeding into the space—she can just hear the beginnings of _White Christmas_ —and in the glow of her fairy lights, her room feels otherworldly, as though this space, plastered with photographs and overflowing with records and clothes and books was made just for her. Just for Mike—sat on her bed, leaning back against his hands and smiling softly at her. He fits so well in her little world, her little room in her little house in Hawkins—he makes it more beautiful than anything else ever could. He makes it home.  

El takes a deep breath. 

"So," She starts, tone unexpectedly quiet. Mike smiles even wider, his eyes lighting up at the sound of her voice. 

"So," He returns. "C'mere, bub." Mike reaches his hand out, and El walks forward to grab it, interlacing their fingers and dropping down beside him. She leans in slightly, her eyes meeting his own. In the golden glow of the lights strung across her bedframe, Mike looks angelic. Eyes dark, hair curled gently against his forehead, his sweater hanging loosely from his frame, and his mouth quirked up into the gentlest of smiles. Her heart thrums against her chest, wild and uncomfortable and so overbearingly full of love.   

"You really did bring me up here to make out with me, huh." He whispers, eyes alight with amusement. El laughs, shoving him slightly. 

"Keep dreaming." She says. But _god_ he looks far too cute, and so she leans in to peck him on the lips. Mike grins. 

"I knew it."

"Shut it," She giggles. "I, um, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift."  

"Well, that's convenient," Mike says, tone lilted with amusement. "Cause I wanna give you your Christmas gift, too." He jerks his head to the left gently, and El raises her eyebrow. She turns to look in the direction he gestured towards, and lets out a gentle gasp at what she sees—sat on her desk is a box, messily wrapped and tied up in the poorest excuse for a bow to ever exist. El grins—it's just about the prettiest thing she's seen in her entire life. She turns her head back toward Mike, who's watching her intently, his eyes soft.  

"How did you...?" 

"I was gonna sneak you up here later, anyway. You just happened to beat me to it." He says, shrugging. El’s mouth drops open, and she smacks his arm. 

"I can't believe you stole _my own_ romantic plan."

"Hey!" He yells, rubbing his arm. "How do you know I didn't come up with it first?" She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms and turning away from him. 

"Uh huh, sure you did. Thief." Mike laughs, leaning in to kiss her cheek, and El bites her lip to keep her smile at bay. 

"Sorry, bub." He says. She shifts back toward him, and her heart melts at the sight of his lopsided grin. 

"You better be."

He kisses her cheek again, and El laughs. 

"Promise." 

"Okay, well, me first." Getting off the bed, El kneels down and reaches underneath it, pulling out the gift she'd had stowed away for weeks. Her hands feel suddenly sticky with sweat, and at the familiar feeling of nerves crawling steadily up her throat, she takes a deep breath, tells herself this is Mike—he'll love anything she has to give him. Slowly, she places the present down on the bed, her eyes glued to Mike's curious expression.  

"I don't really know how to explain it, so you can just..." She trails off, flailing her hand in his direction as sign for him to open it. Mike shoots her a smile before doing exactly that—gently, he flips open the clasp at the front of the case and lifts the cover. Mike's eyes widen, his mouth dropping open in awe and El feels her heart rate pick up. 

" _Holy shit_." He says, eyes raking wildly over the typewriter. She'd found it at some secondhand shop—an original typewriter from the 20s, hidden in all its glory in the very back next to some old Beatles records. El had seen it and known it was the perfect thing for Mike, for his thoughts and his pretty words and the book she knows he'll write someday. And though the case was battered and torn from its previous use, the typewriter had been in perfect working condition. She'd been sure Mike would love it.  Now, watching the excitement glint in his eyes and his face split into a grin, she knows she'd been right.  

"El, oh my god." Mike turns to look at her then, and El lets out a sigh of relief. He's completely awestruck—wide eyes and a slack jaw, and he's staring at her as though she's just handed him the entire universe, the sun and the moon and the stars all wrapped up for him to have and to hold. 

Still, she asks, "Do you like it?"

"Yes. God, yes." He says, breathless.

"I'm glad. I, um, well I got it for you to write your novel, or your campaigns, or anything, really." She explains, looking down and nervously playing with the hem of her sweater. "The shop owner told me that a great writer knows a typewriter brings a story to life in a way computers can't, and, well, you're the greatest writer I know." Suddenly, Mike reaches down and kisses her _hard_. The kiss is messy—Mike is smiling too much to be able to do it properly—but El isn't bothered, she's smiling too, her skin flushing with heat and desire and love, so much love. 

"It's perfect," He mumbles, pulling back slightly. "You're perfect." El giggles, pecking his lips one more time before resting her forehead against his own.

"God, I love you so much." He breathes out. Her heart swells. 

"I love you too, bub." _More than anything,_ she thinks. With one last kiss pressed to her lips, Mike pulls back completely. His eyes are wide and bright with unshed tears, face burning red in the dim glow of her bedroom, and El almost begins to cry at the sight--the pure happiness written into his expression. He stares back down at the typewriter, hands brushing over the keys gently. With a smile and the smallest of sniffles, Mike carefully closes the case and clicks the lock in place, then turns to face her.

"Okay, my turn now." Pushing the typewriter aside, Mike gets up to grab the wrapped box off of her desk, and settles it down between them. As he sits backs down, El begins attempting to untie the bow—a frayed purple ribbon put together so tightly it only seems to grow more knotted as she tuggs gently on one of the tails. In front of her, Mike coughs awkwardly, and she looks up to see him rubbing the back of his head with his hand—his face dusted red out of nerves, now.  

"I'm sorry about the wrapping, I know it's like, super ugly, but Nancy wouldn't help me, and my Mom was gone, and there's no way I was asking my Dad so I just—"

" _Mike_ ," She laughs. "It's okay. I love it. It's you." 

He grins, dropping his arm and raising an eyebrow at her. "You saying I'm ugly, Hopper?" 

El shrugs. "Maybe."  

Mike pouts.  "Y'know, I buy you gifts and this is what I get in return." 

"Sounds like a you problem." She says, reaching over to poke his cheek teasingly. 

"How'd I get a girlfriend this mean?" He whines, but he's smiling. He gestures towards the gift still sitting unwrapped in her lap. "Open it, already." 

After a few minutes of tugging and untangling and Mike groaning in embarrassment, El manages to remove the box from its wrapping. She opens the lid, and one by one, takes the items out and places them in front of her; she's staring at a 7" vinyl of the song _Islands in The Stream_  by Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton, a VHS tape of the film _The Big Chill_ , a tattered, slightly torn copy of _Pet Sematary_  by Stephen King, and a smaller box covered in black velvet. El looks back up at Mike, her brow furrowed. Before she can ask, Mike sighs, eyes darting across her face nervously. She watches as he swallows, his hands wringing together. 

"I bet you're really confused," He starts. "Um, well, that's the number one best-selling book, song, and movie from the day of November 7th, 1983." El gasps, her eyes flickering back down to the items between them. Gently, she picks up the vinyl, sliding it out of its protective covering and reading over the branding in the middle, her smile growing all the while. One by one, she ever so carefully picks up the items, holding them as though each were some individual piece of her heart. 

"I, uh, I dug through a lot of old newspapers to figure this stuff out...but um, I wanted to give you these to, well, I guess to remember all the things happening the day we met. What the world was like. I don't know, maybe it's dumb—"

"It's not dumb. It's not dumb at all, Mike." She cuts in, voice wavering with emotion. "It's amazing. You're so amazing." Mike blushes, his shoulders visibly dropping as he lets out a breath of relief. Softly, he clears his throat. 

"Oh and the—the box, um you can just open that, too." 

El places the book she had been excitedly flicking through down, her hands reaching out to grab the last little item on the bed. The velvet is smooth in her hands, the box weighty and soft. She flicks it open, and is met with a folded up note. She grabs the paper in one hand, placing the box down again to begin to unfold it. Once she does, she's met with a message scribbled in Mike's slanted, scratchy print. It reads:

_El,_

_On November 7, 1983 the world was celebrating this song, this movie, and this book. You and I were celebrating the start of the rest of our lives, we just didn't know it yet._

_I love you._

_—Mike_

"Oh my god, Mike." She whispers, tears welling in her eyes. 

"Um, there's one other thing in the box."  

El looks down, and immediately feels her jaw drop. Sitting in the box, shimmering delicately, is a silver bracelet, with a single charm—the letters  _m &e_, glinting in the light and lined with crystals. 

"Oh my god, Mike." She repeats, louder. Mike laughs, his hand reaching out to wipe the tears now falling down her face.  

"I hope this means you like it." He says. 

"I love it, all of it." She looks back up at him, and he's smiling at her, gaze heavy and bright with adoration.  

She loves him so much, it’s the only gift she’ll ever need. But still, here he is, propped up on her bed, a mess of ruffled hair and soft, rosy lips and he’s giving her everything—he’s giving her the world on the day they met. And what he doesn’t know is that he’d already given her the world, the entire, infinite universe, that very same day. He is the world, her world, the only one she’ll need. 

She loves him so much. Some days, she’s not sure how her heart can manage. 

“I can put it on for you, if you want.” Mike says, his voice barely above a whisper. El nods, putting out her arm and trying her hardest not to let it shake. Carefully, Mike unboxes the bracelet and wraps the delicate silver chain around her wrist, leaning down and biting his lip in concentration as he attempts to fasten the clasp. Normally, El would be swooning at how incredibly cute he looks like this, but at the moment, she’s spotted something on the floor of her bedroom—a sprig of a little, green plant. El smiles, and with one glance at Mike to make sure he’s not paying attention, she levitates the plant—drifting it forward so that it hovers directly above their heads. 

“Bub,” She whispers. “Look up.”  

Mike lifts his head at the sound of her voice, is eyes flickering up to what’s floating between them. 

“Mistletoe.” El says. Mike chuckles softly, his eyes darting back down to meet El’s.

“I wonder how that got up there.” 

El grins, shrugging in feigned ignorance. “Must be magic.”  

“Must be.” He breathes out, his gaze dropping down to her lips.  

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me, dummy.”  

He laughs as he leans in, and then he’s kissing her. His lips are soft and tainted with faintest hint of royal icing, his hands are wrapped around her waist and he’s pulling her closer and he smells like vanilla and baked cookies and her heart is pumping love love love all throughout her body. And somehow, at this moment, El can just hear _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ playing downstairs, and the music fills the space as thought it was always meant to be the soft soundtrack to this kiss, on this Christmas eve. And as the two of them kiss, gifts strewn around them and the mistletoe dropped back down to the floor, El feels something pure creep into the room. Something good, like Christmas morning, or the first snowfall of the year. Something like love, and like Mike & El, together.  

Slowly, he pulls away, and in the of the world, his voice rings out— low and raspy and perfect. 

"Merry Christmas, El."

"Merry Christmas, Mike." 

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i hope everyone's been having a happy holidays so far <3 this was super fun to write, especially cause i got to do a lil research when it came to Mike's gift! i hope you liked it, let me know what you thought. (also no one come for me about the star wars soundtrack, i know people have their preferences as to what star wars movie is mike's favourite but i dont know anything about that franchise so Let Me Be)
> 
> i'd also just like to give a special thanks to kate (thenewromantics), who organized this secret santa. i love you!! thank you for putting this together, and for being my go-to friend for crying over mileven with. wishing you all the best in the new year b <3
> 
> until next time, merry christmas to all of you and happy new year. hearts out for st3 :-)  
> tumblr: eleven-n-mike / twitter: borispaviikov


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